


The Reformer

by Heavenstands



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Gen, Hoping several others are interested cause I like the idea, Others may continue fic, Read the author comments, Start of a fic, Unsub | Unknown Subject
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenstands/pseuds/Heavenstands
Summary: This is what I would expect to see during the opening scene of an episode. It seems too big to be a prompt. It starts with the unsub and victim.
Kudos: 3





	The Reformer

“Last she remembers is leaning against the passenger car of the latest possible client. Pouting her lips as she arches her back, showing off her cleavage in an effort to snag a john. She doesn’t remember what he said or asked for, but she must have agreed to his terms, or else she would never have gotten into his vehicle.

Now her head is foggy, her body feels heavy, and her throat is dry. She reaches up to rub her eyes to discover she can’t move her arms. Dazed, she slowly opens her eyes, and her sight is blurry, so it takes a few seconds before she realizes she is tied to a bed. In her profession, she has been tied to a bed often but never without remembering getting to that point.

Blinking repeatedly to clear the grit from her eyes, she lifts her head to look around the room. Appears to be a house, a lovely room with a soft, comfortable bed, dresser, all muted colors. Not what she ever would have expected to wake up to while being held against her will. That’s what this has to be, kidnapped or abducted. There is no way she consented to this. 

“Hello, is there anyone there? Someone help me please,” she calls out, hoping whoever responds is not the person that put her here.

A few minutes later, a tall, strong-looking man enters the room wearing jeans, a black tee-shirt, and a mask covering the top portion of his face. There is no way this is not who took her, realizing this her body begins to tremble as she starts to whimper. 

“Aw, shhh, shh, you’re ok, nothing to worry about,” the man says in a soft, gentle tone. 

He sits on the bed next to her softly stroking her head, continuing to speak comforting words to her until she calms down.

“There you are, everything is going to be ok, as long as you are a good girl,” he tells her, causing her to whimper again. 

“What do you want?” she stutters out.

“Nothing too difficult or scary,” he tells her.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“Some have called me ‘The Reformer’ but you could also call me John if you so choose to,” he responds.

She has heard that name before, some of the other girls have spoken of it. Also, there was a news story in the papers and on tv recently. She can’t help but be even more afraid now, “They said you killed a girl last week, are you going to kill me?”

“That depends on you, that could be the result, or you could be safe and whole in your home as early as tomorrow, it’s really up to you,” he responds.

“I get to choose?” Now she is not only scared but also shocked; he can’t possibly be telling the truth. 

“The girl you saw on the news last week. Sandra broke her promise to me, didn’t behave as a good girl should. You will be given the same choice and rules as she was, do you want to hear them now or would you prefer to wait? I could make your dinner first, and then we can get to business,” his voice is calm and soothing, considering he is clearly crazy. 

Even though she can’t remember the last time she ate there is no way she wants to eat anything he makes her. At the same time what if this business he is talking about includes torture or rape or death. Not knowing what to choose she begins to panic, pulling on her arms and legs trying to get away. 

“Shhh shhh, it’s ok; nothing bad will happen to you before you have made your choice. I will explain everything and answer all your questions so you can make an informed decision. I wouldn’t want you to make a promise you don’t completely understand,” he tells her as he gently caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears. 

Gasping for air she concentrates on calming herself down. As odd as it seems she believes him, he could have hurt her the moment he walked into the room and yet hasn’t. 

She needs more time to think and clear her head of the fogginess from whatever drugs he must have given her if she wants to understand whatever his terms are, so she decides to ask for dinner first.

“Um, can I have dinner first,” she says, still slightly stuttering. 

“Of course you can, let’s get you more comfortable, now be a good girl, and don’t try anything,” he says before he leans over her. 

Carefully he removes the restraint from one wrist one at a time, reattaching it higher up on the headboard before moving to the other wrist then adjusts each ankle restraint before he helps her sit up. He is meticulous in every move he makes, including coordinating her pillows behind her back for her comfort before laying a soft blanket over her body. 

“There we go, give you some modesty, are you comfortable?” He asks.

Completely shocked, it takes her a moment to realize he has asked her a question. She doesn’t understand why he is being so kind to her. “Um, I’m sorry, can you repeat yourself?” This could be what sets him off; she doesn’t know. She is scared, but at the same time not knowing what he said means she could give the wrong answer.

He remains calm, smiles at her, “I asked if you are comfortable,” he tells her. 

“Oh, yes, yes, she tells him.”

“Now, since you are allergic to peanuts, I have made sure to remove all nut products and cleanse the house beforehand, so you don’t have to worry,” he tells her. She assumes this is meant to reassure her, but it does the opposite, now she can’t stop wondering how he knows about her peanut allergy.

After a moment to regain her control she clears her throat, “Oh, um, thank you, I appreciate that,” hopefully continuing to be polite and smiling will keep her safe. 

He nods before leaving the room, letting the door remains open. She can’t see very much; the hallway turns after a few feet. The only view is a wall, but she can hear noises coming from wherever he went. If she can hear him than she is sure he would be able to hear her. As quietly as she can she tests the restraints to see if there is any give to them. They are secure, she can’t reach either arm, but they are not tight enough to cut into her skin. She has seen restraints like this before in hospitals on the beds. 

It’s only a few minutes later that he returns carrying a tray with a bowl, napkin, and spoon. He places it on the bed over her lap, gently lays the napkin over her chest without touching her. 

“Now let’s give you one of your hands, or would you prefer I feed you?” He asks. 

“Ah, if you don’t mind, I would rather do it myself,” he nods. She expects him to reach for her right one and is about to tell him she is left-handed, but he removes the restraint from the left hand. Somehow this man also knows she is left-handed, she doesn’t know what to think about all of this. 

(How could he possibly know all of this?)

Cautiously she brings the first spoon full up to her nose to sniff it hoping that if it were drugged, she would be able to tell. Noticing her acts, he moves closer, takes a spoon from his pocket, and eats a spoon full first to show her it is not poisoned. 

“You don’t have to worry, you haven’t even been told the rules yet, you are safe for now,” he tells her, still with that gentle smile on his face.

As she eats, he sits next to her, not exactly watching her, but it’s clear he will know if she does try to get away. He pulls out a book that she didn’t notice before and reads while she eats until she finishes. She tried to eat slowly dreading the upcoming “Rules” conversation, but the soup is delicious, and it’s been at least a day since her last meal. 

When she is done, he waits until she has finished using her napkin before putting her wrist back in the restraint and leaving with the tray. 

She doesn’t know how long it is until he comes back, it seems like forever but at the same time not long enough. Her anxiety increases waiting for him dreading whatever is going to happen next, but at the same time having to wait is not helping.

He enters the room, sits on the bed next to her. Notices her panic, “It’s ok; you don’t have to worry.”

Tears falling down her cheeks she nods; she wants to behave even though she doesn’t know what he considers good or bad. 

“All you have to do is promise me you will be a good girl, I will explain. Now a good girl doesn’t use drugs, alcohol, sell her body, or have sexual relations outside of a committed relationship. That’s it simple, do you have any questions?”

Stunned, she doesn’t know what to say; she opens her mouth to speak several times before he speaks.

“You can ask any question. I want to make sure you understand,” he says. 

“When you say drugs, what if someone forces me to, like, like well sorry but like you drugged me to get me here?” She hopes this doesn’t anger him, but she needs to be sure. Her parents always said she could find a loophole in every rule they had ever given her. 

She doesn’t know how serious he is about all of this, but if agreeing to his terms saves her life, then she needs to know what they are. It’s clear he will see if she lies, considering he knows things about her that he shouldn’t know. That girl she saw on the news he said broke her promise, so that’s another reason for her to believe that he will know if she breaks her promise. 

He smiles at her in a way a father would their child; it’s a proud, loving smirk.

“You are a smart one, good question, no that wouldn’t count against you. Neither would it if you were to, unfortunately, be raped. Your promise would be only for acts in your control and concent.”

Feeling a little reassured that her questions won’t cause a harsh response, she asks, “When you say a committed relationship does that include a same-sex partner,” she started out strong, but as her question progressed her voice became strained. What if he is some religious nut and decides to kill her right now. 

“You don’t have to worry, I already know you prefer women to men even though your past activities would suggest otherwise,” he tells her, no hint of mockery on his face. 

“Any more questions?”

She thinks for a moment then remembered when she was little, and her mom had surgery, and they prescribed her pain medication. “What if my doctor prescribes me drugs do those count?”

“No, those you can take, as long as you are not taking drugs to get high and it’s for medical reasons you are fine,” she is stunned by his expression, he appears to be impressed. 

“I knew you were smart, but you are much smarter than I expected, I hope you agree to my terms and make something wonderful of your life, I think you could do amazing things for the world. I suggest you have your I.Q tested, I’m guessing it is in the higher range,” he tells her.

It’s scary, but this actually lifts her spirits, it’s been a long time since anyone has said anything so kind to her. For it to be a serial killer, it makes her realize that maybe he is right, she is wasting her life. She should be surrounding her self with kind, loving people, not some pimp that beats her for his gain. 

“Is that your last question,” he asks?

“Yes, I can’t think of any more,” she responds. Now she is terrified, what if this was all just a big joke to him and he just wanted to see if she would play along. 

“Do you agree to my terms,” he asks.

“Yes,” she says, in her fear, she closes her eyes tight. 

“That’s wonderful, you don’t have to be afraid, you will be going home,” he tells her. 

She opens her eyes to see him stand and leave the room; again, the door is left open. He comes back into the room a few seconds later. Now he is wearing gloves. She back up as much as possible terrified. 

He clicks his tongue in disappointment, “You won’t be hurt now, I understand you don’t trust me,” he lifts her blanket, pulls an envelope from his pocket, “Here is some money to help you get started in your new life,” he carefully puts the money in her pocket. 

“I understand if you chose to go to the police, I won’t be mad if you do, you can tell them about the money if you want but I do have to warn you they will take it then. If you decide not to tell them they will never know about it, I just want you to succeed. There are no fingerprints on the money or envelope, so it won’t help them find me. Don’t worry; you can tell law enforcement as much or as little as you want. I hope you make it, get a good job, or go to school; you are smart, don’t waste this second chance at life. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

She feels a prick on her neck right before everything becomes foggy, and darkness overtakes her. 

  
  
  


Two days later, a woman with long brunette hair and dark brown eyes enters her local police station. She is wearing long pants with a button-down shirt that she bought from a bargain store after throwing away all of her other clothes. The officer that sees her enter the building is not sure if she is nervose or experiencing withdrawals. 

“Mam, can I help you,” he ask her. 

“Um, yeah, I need to report a crime it has to do with ‘The Reformer’ she mumbles.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘The Reformer?” He wants to be sure, it’s hard to hear here over the chaos of the station. 

After receiving a nod from her, he leads her off to the side picks up his phone to call his chief, “Sir, there is a young lady here with information about,” he whispers, “The Reformer.”

“Damit, Stevenson, I’ve told you to stop calling him that,” he chief scolds him.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I don’t know what else to call him, should I bring her back to you?” He asks.

“Yes! Take her to one of the offices, not an interrogation room, and then get one of the female officers in there to make her comfortable, and then I want you to get on the phone to the F.B.I. It’s time to call in the BAU.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have not finished this, and I'm not sure if I'm going to. The idea came to me, but I've never written Criminal minds fics, and I wouldn't know how to begin writing anything to do with profiling anyone. My hope is that others will continue with this idea. As many people that want to can post the next chapter on their user. I'm not sure if there is a way to link them, but you could leave a link in the comments for others to see. Or post the name and user, and I could put a link in the author notes. It would be interesting to see how others progress the story. I purposely didn't give her a name, so everyone that wants to continue the story can choose their own. I could come up with ideas about her background and the unsubs but the part of the fic with the BAU I doubt my ability to get the characters right. You can make up your own background for her and decide if she will be in future chapters. I only ask that Spencer Reid is a part of the continued stories because he is my favorite. I left some hints like her possibly having a high IQ. You could write other victim scenes with the unsub, maybe ones with a not so polite victim. Really it's up to you. If this is not allowed, let me know, I just couldn't get this idea out of my head, but I feel like its much more than a prompt. I know I wouldn't be able to keep the BAU in character. I hope I'm explaining my self clearly, please don't be mad. If you prefer you can copy and paste the first chapter and then continue it. I just ask that you mention me and let me know either with a comment here or as a gift so I can read it.


End file.
